


downward facing dog

by almostafantasia



Series: Clexa Week 2018 [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa Week 2018, Clexaweek2018, Day 4, F/F, Smut, Yoga, thirsty clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostafantasia/pseuds/almostafantasia
Summary: The way that Lexa’s body twists and contorts itself into each position with an effortless grace is honestly spank bank material. And no, Clarke isn’t going to get herself off while thinking of her yoga instructor, but the point is that if she wanted to then she wouldn’t have to try very hard to get herself into the right mood.While Lincoln is away on a business trip, Clarke accompanies Octavia to her yoga class in what is supposed to be a one off favour to her best friend. But when she meets the instructor, Clarke can’t stop herself from returning week after week.





	downward facing dog

Clarke wants it to be known that the only reason she has agreed to accompany Octavia to her weekly yoga class in Lincoln's place while he is away on a business trip is because of the promise of brunch afterwards.

She's wearing a pair of leggings that still had the label on the before she put them on, bought several months ago when she decided she was going to start going to them gym but never followed through, and a sports bra so tight that Clarke is fairly certain her nipples will have been inverted when she takes it off again later. She feels so out of place next to Octavia and the dozen other regulars who wait outside the studio for the class to begin, all with their water bottles and their yoga mats and their toned physiques that are clearly built for flexibility where Clarke’s curves are not.

"I should just go back home,” Clarke says to Octavia. “Yoga isn't my thing."

"Clarke, you promised me,” pleads Octavia. “You have to stay. If nothing else, the instructor is hot. Exactly your type too."

"I don't think anybody who does yoga can be considered my type,” Clarke retorts, as the door opens and the others in the class start to file into the studio.

Oh how wrong Clarke is.

The yoga instructor is apparently a statue of a goddess, a jawline so chiselled is can only be carved from stone and sculpted biceps that have Clarke tripping over her own feet barely three paces into the studio. But then the statue moves, acknowledging the class with polite nods of her head and Clarke decides that she's just a goddess, an actual real life, jaw-droppingly beautiful, out of this world goddess.

A goddess who Clarke doesn't realise is speaking to her until she receives one of Octavia's pointy elbows in her ribs.

"Oh, hi!" Clarke says, blushing as she realises that she's been caught staring. "Clarke Griffin. I'm keeping Octavia company while Lincoln's away."

"Lexa," says the goddess. "Welcome to my class. Have you done yoga before?”

Clarke considers lying to save herself the embarrassment, before deciding against it when she realises that she doesn’t want Lexa’s expectation of her skill to be any higher than the bare minimum.

“Nope.”

“She’s probably going to need a lot of help,” Octavia interjects unhelpfully.

If there were a way for Clarke to subtly punch Octavia for her comment then that’s exactly what Clarke would do, but as there isn't, she has to settle for glaring at her best friend instead.

Lexa regards Clarke with a gentle curiosity, as if she knows exactly what Octavia is trying to do, and the hint of a smile that pulls at one corner of Lexa’s mouth has Clarke’s insides fluttering with nerves.

“I’m sure we can arrange that.”

* * *

As it turns out, Clarke is as hopeless at yoga as she thought she might be.

With Octavia to her right stretching into each position effortlessly, as if she could easily do this in her sleep, in comparison Clarke feels as though she has the grace of an elephant trying to cross a rickety wooden bridge. This is clearly something that Clarke’s body is not intended to do, each stretch more uncomfortable than the last as she contorts herself into one unnatural position after another.

There is nothing relaxing about yoga.

As much as Clarke hates to admit it, Octavia as right and the view is at least a nice one. Yoga may not be Clarke’s thing but it is definitely Lexa’s, whose body is made of lean muscle that ripples and flexes enticingly with each elegant movement. The way that Lexa’s body twists and contorts itself into each position with an effortless grace is honestly spank bank material. And no, Clarke isn’t going to get herself off while thinking of her yoga instructor, but the point is that if she _wanted_ to then she wouldn’t have to try very hard to get herself into the right mood.

Has the temperature in the yoga studio just cranked up a few degrees or is that just Clarke’s imagination?

“You’re staring,” hisses Octavia.

“What?” asks Clarke, her friend’s words pulling her out of a daydream that definitely did _not_ involve Lexa’s shapely thighs wrapped around her waist.

Octavia smirks in triumph.

“Clarke!”

The loud bark of her name comes from the from of the studio and when she looks up, Clarke finds Lexa’s green eyes watching her.

“Focus is an important part of yoga,” says Lexa. “Keep your mind free of distractions.”

“Stop distracting me then,” Clarke mutters, loud enough for only Octavia to hear her, as she tries to mirror the position demonstrated by Lexa at the front.

* * *

“So will I see you again?”

Lexa takes Clarke by surprise, approaching stealthily while Clarke rolls up the yoga mat she borrowed from Lincoln.

“Sorry, what?”

“In the class?” Leax clarifies with a little smile of amusement. “Will I see you here again next week?”

Clarke hesitates in the spotlight, caught between lying and pretending that she enjoys yoga and wants to return, and confessing that she hated the entire class.

She chooses an easy way out.

“Well, Lincoln will be back by next week so O won’t need me here.”

“You’d still be welcome,” replies Lexa. “There’s always room for one more.”

“I don’t know if yoga is really my thing,” confesses Clarke, trying to let Lexa down as kindly as she can.

“Okay,” nods Lexa, though Clarke thinks she might detect a flash of disappointment cross Lexa’s face. “Well if you change your mind, I’d love to see you back here.”

Having watched the entire interaction, Octavia grabs Clarke by the arm and starts leading Clarke towards the door, saying to Lexa as they depart, “She’ll think about it.”

After an hour of pushing her body in ways it isn’t supposed to be pushed, Clarke doesn’t have the energy to protest.

* * *

Lincoln comes back from his work trip and Clarke lets herself get dragged along to yoga the following week regardless.

She tells Octavia that it’s because yoga is good for her, even though the way that her body screamed in protest during the class and the way that she hobbled around for three days with aches in the weirdest places counters that reasoning. Octavia just gives Clarke a knowing smirk and offers to give her a lift to the next class.

Clarke’s eyes seek out Lexa’s as soon as she enters the studio, and while Lexa offers out pleasant greetings to the others in the class as they arrive, her eyes light up in surprise when she sees Clarke.

“Clarke! I’m so glad you decided to return!”

“Yeah, well,” Clarke shrugs, keeping her eyes on Lexa’s face and not on the spandex yoga pants that have followed Clarke’s thoughts since last week, “I thought I’d give you one more chance to prove to me that yoga is worth my time.”

“Challenge accepted.”

* * *

Yoga is no easier the second time, nor the third, nor the fourth, yet Clarke keeps coming back again and again and again. She hates every moment of the yoga class, hates the fact that her body doesn’t move in the way that she wants it to.

But there’s also a part of her that basks in the fact that she’s terrible at yoga, that likes the fact that Lexa’s eyes are constantly watching her and the way that Lexa has to keep coming over to correct Clarke’s positioning. Lexa is undeniably hot and Clarke selfishly likes being the centre of her attention.

She likes having Lexa’s hands on her too, helping her move into each pose. Lexa’s hand on the small of her back sends goosebumps down Clarke’s spine, and when Lexa’s hand finds the inside of Clarke’s thigh to push the stance of her legs further apart, Clarke becomes very aware of an uncomfortable ache between her legs.

Nobody should be this turned on during yoga class.

And it only gets worse.

After a month of hearing tales from Octavia about Clarke’s new infatuation with the yoga instructor, Raven decides to see what the fuss is about and tags along.

The thing is, Raven has about as little aptitude for yoga as Clarke, the only difference being that Raven has no pretence about wanting to be there for the yoga. To Raven, the yoga class is a spectator sport, one where she can watch as Clarke struggles with the poses and ogles the hot instructor at the front of the class.

“You’re dribbling on your yoga mat,” Raven says unhelpfully between two poses, her face wearing a wide grin.

“What?” asks Clarke suddenly, wiping at her chin and glancing down at the mat. When she realises that Raven is speaking metaphorically, she scowls across at her friend.

“And now into downward-facing dog,” Lexa instructs the class, and Clarke channels all of her inner zen to ignore Raven and move into the now-familiar pose.

Lexa guides the class through a series of poses, which repeats, and when they get back to the beginning of the cycle to start again, she leaves her own mat at the front of the studio to walk up and down the rows, correcting a few positions here and there. They’re back in the downward-facing dog when Clarke spies Lexa’s legs from between her own, and a gentle hand finds its way to Clarke’s hip, almost on her ass, as she helps to straighten Clarke’s back and improve her posture.

“Excellent, Clarke,” she says, when she’s satisfied that Clarke is in the correct pose, though she doesn’t immediately lift her hand from where it is burning a hole through the thin material of Clarke’s yoga pants.

From Clarke’s left, there’s a raucous wolf-whistle that can’t come from anybody other than Raven, and it drags Clarke out of her own headspace. She forgets where she is, forgets that she’s bent over at the hips and supporting half of her own weight on her hands, and lifts one hand up to flip Raven off, only to slip and almost end up face-planting the yoga mat.

It’s definitely not one of Clarke’s better attempts at seduction.

“Focus, Clarke!” Lexa warns her, finally lifting her hand from Clarke’s hip.

Clarke _hates_ Raven.

* * *

Octavia and Lincoln are both away on a romantic trip to celebrate their anniversary the following week, so Clarke makes the trip to the yoga studio alone.

Lexa seems surprised to see Clarke here without Octavia, but she says nothing, nor does she comment on the fact that Clarke unrolls her yoga mat in the front row, right in front of where Lexa’s mat lies at the front of the studio.

It’s not until after the class that they actually speak to each other, minus a few praises and encouragements from Lexa during the class. Clarke is alone in the locker room, looking for her towel and soap in her gym bag, when Lexa enters, dropping her own bag onto the bench beside Clarke’s.

“I’m surprised to see you here without the other two,” she tells Clarke. “I thought for certain that you wouldn’t be here this week.”

Clarke shrugs, smiling to herself at the thought of Lexa thinking about her and maybe feeling disappointed that she wouldn’t get her weekly dose of watching Clarke struggle through a series of yoga poses.

“I just can’t seem to stay away,” says Clarke elusively, raising her eyebrows at Lexa.

“You know, at first I wasn’t sure why you kept coming back,” Lexa says, taking out a towel of her own and pulling her leggings down long legs. “I mean, you clearly hated the first class and yoga doesn’t come naturally to you.”

“Wow, Lexa,” says Clarke, reverting to humour in an attempt to ignore the fact that Lexa’s tanned legs are on show in all their bare glory, impossibly more lean and enticing without that extra layer of clothing covering them. “Keep the compliments coming.”

“But I think I’ve worked out why you can’t stay away,” says Lexa.

Clarke’s mouth goes incredibly dry and she reaches for her water bottle, taking a long sip to rectify it, before she says, “Oh really?”

“Your friend said something at the end of the class last week. Not Octavia, the other one.”

“Raven?” asks Clarke, her heart sinking. Raven who know exactly how attracted to the yoga instructor Clarke is, can’t possibly have had anything helpful to say.

“That’s the one,” says Lexa, lifting her vest top up and over her head to reveal a perfect set of abs that has Clarke’s eyes bursting out of their sockets and her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth. “She told me that I should make a move on you. That it wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome if I did.”

Clarke’s mouth hangs open and she gapes for a good five seconds before she remembers how to form words. When she does speak, the heat rises to her cheeks as she realises the embarrassment that Raven has caused her.

“She shouldn’t have said that,” Clarke tries to wriggle out of the most awkward moment of her entire life. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“The thing is, I’m not sure I should make a move on you,” says Lexa. Clarke’s heart sinks with disappointment, but before she has a chance to say anything in response, Lexa’s lips curl up into a smile and she continues, “I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite class member. I’d like to see you keep on _coming_.”

Lexa shoots Clarke a sly wink, before she grabs her towel and disappears in the direction of the showers. The double entendre isn’t lost on Clarke and she’s left frozen to the spot in the middle of the locker room, in desperate need of a cold shower.

What the _fuck_?

* * *

“Clarke, uh - _yes_!”

Lexa claws at Clarke naked back under the hot stream of water, shuddering her orgasm in Clarke’s arms. Clarke has Lexa pinned against the wall of the shower, stopping her from sliding down onto the tiled floor as she shakes and gasps out her pleasure. Between their bodies, Clarke slows the movement of her thumb against Lexa’s clit and withdraws her fingers when Lexa’s body sags against her own own, then pulls Lexa’s mouth into hers for a slow kiss.

It’s the third week in a row that the end of the yoga class has seen them both stumble into the showers in the locker room, locking the cubicle door for privacy and hoping that nobody else is going to walk into the showers and interrupt them. The sex is already phenomenal - Lexa’s lithe body is just as tantalising up close and naked, and just as flexible as you might expect from a yoga instructor - but the thrill of getting caught adds a new dimension and makes it even better.

“Fuck,” groans Lexa, once the tail end of her climax has tapered out. “I’m so glad you’re better at that than you are at yoga.”

“Hey!” protests Clarke, pinching Lexa’s skin just below her ribs. “You said I was getting better.”

“I’d say anything to get you into this shower,” admits Lexa. Her hands trace patterns up and down Clarke’s spine.

“Ass,” says Clarke, rolling her eyes, but she pulls Lexa closer and nuzzles her face into Lexa’s neck. “You know, we don’t have to keep meeting like this. It doesn’t have to be here.”

“You’re just saying that so that you can stop coming to my class,” teases Lexa.

“Oh, believe me,” smiles Clarke, “the view in your class has been fuelling my fantasies and I’m not giving that up.”

“That’s good to know,” grins Lexa, sliding a hand down Clarke’s stomach and dipping beneath the small patch of neat pubic hair to find wet folds. “So can I take you out some time?”

Clarke gasps as Lexa’s finger dance over her clitoris, then tease lower at her entrance.

“Keep touching me like this and you can do whatever you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr too. Come and say hi [@almostafantasia](http://almostafantasia.tumblr.com)


End file.
